


A Rose by any other name

by artysgirl



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, OC, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1342903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artysgirl/pseuds/artysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Journey's End," Rose Tyler and The Doctor's half-human counterpart are left to forge a life together. This is their story, one year later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Assisi, Italy

_**Prologue** _

__

When she tells me I make her happy, I believe her. Her eyes betray no hidden doubt, her posture is relaxed and at ease in my arms.

When she tells me she loves me, I know it to be true. Logic points to it as the only possible solution. Better yet, I can hear it in the way she says my name.

“Doctor.” There is no question there.

Here is what she doesn’t say:

I know you are not Him. I know you never will be Him. You are a carbon copy, down to the strands of membrane that hold your beating heart together, but you don’t hold the memories of the first time He saw me. And I have chosen to love you instead, because that is the tragedy of our love.

Somewhere, between the fabric of space and time, a TARDIS weeps.

 

_**Assisi, Italy** _

 

“Look Jack, look at that sunset,” I croon in the baby’s ear. “Back in London it’s more reddish, due to smog levels and certain chemical compounds in the Earth’s atmosphere. But here there’s little to no air pollution at any given time, and it’s a radiant orange. Beautiful. Like your mother.”

Rose tilts her head onto my shoulder, and a blonde strand of hair tickles my chin.

“Happy one year anniversary,” she breathes.

* * *

 

It’s strange, having human anatomy that influences my thoughts and actions. My brain is wired to Gallifreyan, but my body responds to the toils of mankind.

Maybe that is why, when I lay Jack in his crib, I feel an ache in my arms, and it isn’t from anything in particular, it’s just… an ache.

I am somewhere in my early forties, we believe. It says forty-two on my fake birth certificate.

I can hear the sound of her footsteps on the landing behind me: soft, like her, but carrying an urgency she injects into everything she does.

Turning to greet her, I say, “Jack’s asleep for the night. Shall we get into some trouble?”

The grin lights up her face like the shimmer of a ring of Akhaten.

“That’s why I love you,” she whispers, standing on tiptoe to kiss me. I twine our fingertips together, leaning into the embrace, only breaking for air.

“Come on, Rose! You only get to eat your first slice of Italian pizza once!” I say, dragging her along beside me as I make a break for the door. We’re staying at a little condominium outside of Assisi, thanks to Rose’s latest paycheck from UNIT.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she responds, once she gets her breath back. “It’s nine o’clock.”

“Don’t let time restrict you,” I respond. “Restrict time, instead.”

“But do you think Jack will be okay?” she muses.

“Ah, yes.” I skid to a stop next to our rental car. “That’s why I hired- a babysitter!”

“In Italy?” she asks, looking skeptical. “Don’t they all speak Italian?”

“I speak Italian, Rose! I speak over 40 languages!”

“You use a translator.”

I finger the device in my pocket ruefully. “Couldn’t you let me pretend?”

“No,” she says with a smirk. “And I’m driving.”

“Well, fine,” I say, tugging open the door and sliding into the seat. “Can I at least direct you? I have a natural sense of direction, you know.”

She really laughs this time, nearly knocking into the dashboard.

“I really hope you’re being sarcastic, Doctor. Especially after the Paris incident.”

Hmph, I think, sliding down in my seat. That wasn’t my fault. Catacombs are confusing, and I hadn’t been there since the nineteenth century.

* * *

 

“Rose, look at that.”

“Look at what?”

“That man there, with the turned up collar and the funny hat,” I explain, pointing him out through the binoculars. Rose lifts them up to her face.

“What about him? Besides his poor taste in spring clothing.”

“He’s got an air of skullduggery around him. Look at how he keeps fidgeting and looking around at nothing in particular, like someone’s watching him.”

“There is someone watching him, Doctor. It’s us.”

“Oh, besides that, Rose, can’t you see!” I gesticulate wildly, catching the attention of several passerby. “He’s plotting something!”

“Like a pickpocket? Oo, he does look like a pickpocket. Like the ones in movies, y’know? Except I would expect a mustache…” I cut her off.

“He’s not just any pickpocket, he’s an inexperienced one. Probably his first job. And in such a crowded place…” I trail off, tugging at an imaginary beard. “He’s waiting for something. A signal, maybe.”

That signal has apparently just been given, as the man suddenly appears to be holding a purse, one that decidedly doesn’t belong to him. But he couldn’t have conjured it out of thin air… There. An elderly woman sitting at an outdoor cafe table. Approximately three feet behind him. Drat. I should have anticipated that move.

“Doctor, he’s leaving. He’s leaving very quickly. He’s going toward that apartment over there. Doctor?!”

Rose’s voice jerks me out of my thoughts and into action. She’s really quite wonderful at doing that, I should inform her sometime. Although now is not a very good time.

“Off we go, Rose!” I take her hand in mine and she squeezes it, perhaps in reflex.

“Thank God,” she replies. “I’m bored to death of looking at frescoes.”

* * *

 

In retrospect, I should have realized that whoever gave the pickpocket the signal was probably waiting for him at the apartment, which in retrospect was obviously a rendezvous point. But that’s the thing about me and the past. I’ve learned to forget the past, and that means I realize a lot of things in retrospect.

Rose usually doesn’t appreciate that, especially at times like these, when we’ve been crudely bound together on a loveseat with zipties.

“Don’t worry love, I’ll get us out of this,” I promise unconvincingly. She groans.

“Whenever you say ‘love,’ I know we’re in trouble.”

“A couple of Earthlings are no match for The Doctor, Rose.”

Just then, our captors enter the room, and I realize I was wrong in my statement. Not the one about Earthlings being no match for The Doctor- that is obviously true, absolutely no doubt about it. I was wrong about it being a couple of Earthlings. The two stocky ones are definitely Earth born, as well as the pickpocket we saw earlier- what was his name? Alfredo?- but the tall one in the middle, no, he’s-

“Haven’t we met?” asks Rose, her brow furrowing deeply in confusion.

“Rose Tyler and The Doctor,” says the man, who is apparently no longer a stranger, in a deep, familiar voice. Then it hits me.

“Centurion!” I exclaim. “Doctor Daherty! But what are you doing running an illegal crime ring in Assisi? And in the twenty-first century, no less?”

I haven’t seen the good doctor for quite a while, but I’m certain that the last time I saw him, it was in Centuria, in the forty-first century. Well, technically that’s the future. I haven’t seen him since the future. And when I did see him, he was running a perfectly legal sun tan salon. Well, not perfectly legal. And I seem to recall getting him out of a bit of trouble with the police!

Rose interrupts before Doctor Daherty can respond. “Doctor, I know we ended our last visit with you on good terms. So maybe you can excuse our, um, intrusion.”

“Ms. Tyler,” he says, in a gravelly voice.

“Mrs, actually,” she replies, holding up her ring finger. I hide my smile.

“Mrs. Tyler,” he concedes. “Favors between business men are never forgotten.” And with a nod at his associates, they step forward and cut apart our restraints. I rub my sore wrists and wince.

“Doctor,” I begin. “What, exactly…?”

“Doctor,” he repeats, forcefully. “Favors between business men are never forgotten, if you please.” He completes his sentence with a small shake of the head.   
That sly dog! It seems he’s been doing some investigative work of his own. Why, I never. Doctor Daherty, a do-gooder. Well, I suppose we all have the power to change for the better.

“Let’s go, Rose,” I say, offering her a hand. “Time to relieve that babysitter of her duties.”

Daherty raises an eyebrow.

“Best wishes to you and your family,” he concludes.

Oh, Doctor. If only that were true.

* * *

 

“Doctor, you must have known how that was going to turn out. There’s no way we weren’t going to be caught sneaking around that place. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She’s mumbling in her sleepiness. I almost can’t hear her.

“I”m sorry, Rose. I was so caught up in it all that I forgot to tell you,” I whisper back. Across the room, Jack coos in his sleep.

“Communication, Doctor. Please,” she says, and turns away from me. But she doesn’t fidget when I cross my arm over her stomach and pull her tightly into me, or when I press my lips against the back of her neck.

Communication, yes, from me, I’ll try. But why do I bother, Rose, when I hear you in your sleep, saying I’m not the real one? Why don’t you communicate that to me? I know why. It’s what I have to live with, because I love you.

I hear Jack cooing again in his sleep. He is not of my flesh, but I love him all the same.

 

 


	2. St. James, Barbados

_Royal Caribbean Cruise. Day 3. We’ve landed in Barbados, and it’s not quite like the photos on the brochure, but still beautiful. Took Jack cycling today. The Doctor had him in this little chair on the back of his bike. He loved it. Both of them, I mean. They were laughing and smiling the whole way down the trail. He has a lovely smile, The Doctor does. Jack has a nice smile too, but he hasn’t got all his teeth yet, so I wouldn’t call it lovely._

_But there’s something strange happening on this boat. A disappearance the night we arrived. Then another two yesterday. And we haven’t heard word of any today, but the staff are exchanging looks. I’m not scared. I’ve spent too much time with him to be scared. But I can tell he’s getting antsy, he wants to know what’s going on and he won’t rest until_

“Rose!”

My Doctor enters the room in his usual flamboyant fashion, all swinging limbs and booming voice. He’s wearing an odd outfit, odd even for him- grey slacks, black dress shoes, white button up with a bizarrely colored tie on top, and is that a chef’s hat?

“Borrowed this from the kitchens,” he says, a huge goofy grin on his face. “Well, I say borrowed…”

“Doctor, you know it’s ninety degrees out, right?” I interject. “You must be sweating.”

“Investigating strange matters is by no means a glamorous job,” he responds, fanning himself with an itinerary. “Now, I spoke with some junior staff members and rumour is that all of the disappeared people are in the same room cluster. And where would you guess that cluster to be?”

I bite my lip, looking him up and down. “Ah, the kitchens, maybe?”

“Bingo!” he says. “But not just the kitchens, the pipes. The big control room with all the gizmos.”

“So not the expensive suites, then. The cheapest ones. Why wouldn’t the kidnappers go for the biggest rooms?”

“Precisely, Rose, that’s what they would do, if they were looking for money.”

I lean back in my chair. “You mean you think they’re just getting people for…?”

“No idea,” he offers, cheerfully. “That’s why we’re investigating, remember?” He finishes off by pointing at his hat, unnecessarily, I might add. It’s far too big for him and is going to slide right over his ears, if he isn’t careful.

“If we’re investigating, we have to take Jack,” I remind him. “And Jack is napping right now.”

“Excellent. He won’t make any incriminating noises.”

“Not what I meant, Doctor.”

* * *

 

 

But, despite my protestations, we’re currently sitting under a leaky pipe, waiting for who knows what. I couldn’t help myself, I love a spot of adrenaline on a lazy Sunday. Although having Jack with us, all tucked up in his baby carrier, is like an anchor to reality. We have to watch ourselves, danger’s no good with a child around.

Jack’s little fingers curl around my pinky just then. Already ten months old. It seems like a lifetime. If only his father were here to see him.

But his father is there, as I’m reminded as he protectively grabs my shoulder, fingers raised to his lips in warning. There’s a faint scuffling noise coming from the corner of the room, behind the raised control booth.

And then, a figure emerges. And oh, it is disgusting. Definitely alien, The Doctor will be so pleased. We just can’t seem to keep ourselves away from them.

It’s humanoid, man-like really, in stature and height. But it’s face, well, it’s completely out of this world. Gaunt features, barely obscured by thin skin pulled back over its head. Huge, slanted eye sockets and nostrils, and a wide mouth.

It breathes openly then, and I see rows of sharp teeth. I swallow thickly and look down at Jack. Please don’t wake up, I beg silently.

“Weevil,” hisses The Doctor next to me.

The Weevil trods around the booth and crosses in front of us. I hunker into the shadow, but it stares dead ahead, making its way to the door leading into the hallway. It’s wearing a cloak-like robe, and it wraps a hood around its head before exiting, silent and steady.

As soon as the door is closed, The Doctor jumps up.

“Interesting, they don’t usually inhabit Earth but occasionally they turn up in the sewers, although how this one got onto a ship is beyond me. Excellent location, though, it’s not as if anyone would suspect it and it’s nice and musty down here. There’s probably only one, it’s not taking nearly enough to satisfy a family-”

“Doctor, we need to go,” I say, firmly. “We need to get Jack out of danger, then we can handle this.”

“But Rose,” he whines, looking at me with wide eyes. “The only way to kill a Weevil is cutting off the source of its power- the flesh it feeds on.” I wrinkle my nose in disgust, but he pushes on.

“It must be stockpiling bodies in its little nest back there. You go find someone, tell them there’s an odd smell coming from the boiler room. They’ll think there’s a murderer on the loose, and that’s problematic, but we’ll call in UNIT, they’ll handle that. And I’ll go after it, stop it from killing anyone else.”

I see that look in his eyes, that desperate need to interfere and help anyone and everyone. It’s times like these that reminds me of why I stay with him, why I choose the danger and the mayhem over peace and serenity. It’s because there’s a point to all of this, we’re helping people. And it’s addictive. And neither of us will ever stop.

“Alright,” I say. “But be careful. “  
“Always do, Rose. Don’t you worry. Hold on tight to Jack though, now that we know there’s a Weevil on the loose.”

I squeeze him tightly before we part, me heading toward the elevator with Jack, to get to the internet cafe and notify UNIT. The Doctor runs in the other direction, completely empty-handed, ridiculous chef’s hat flapping as he goes. I have no idea how he’ll handle this one. But he always does. Always.

* * *

 

_**London, England** _

 

Our cruise ended up being cut short after UNIT showed up. Alien life forms demand intense study, and that means clearing the area of all public. We got a nice reimbursement for the remaining days, though. And I’m back on the job.

I’ve been working with UNIT ever since I first landed in this dimension. I was immediately invaluable, thanks to my travels with The Doctor, and my knowledge of alien life. And once he showed up here, you’d think they would take him too. But he wouldn’t do it. He’s technically a “consultant,” but he won’t step foot in the offices unless it’s to collect me.

No, my Doctor works at Tesco. Yes, the grocery store. He loves it, it’s one of the most confounding things. A man with infinite knowledge of the universe and all the galaxies, and yet he manages to stay sane working in a shop. He says he loves the people, and I don’t doubt that, but it really goes to show what an amazing creature he is.

Now, five days after the Weevil incident, I’m in the office, working on a report of the scene. Once The Doctor captured the thing- he locked it into a suite bathroom, poor things hate bright lights- we ventured back to where it was keeping the other bodies.

It was disgusting, and I didn’t really look at it too closely. But we did find something peculiar: a little silver ring. The Weevil had it wrapped up in cloth, hidden in an ident in the wall, like he was keeping it safe. According to our files, they’re actually kind of sentimental. It might have belonged to a dead friend or family member, at some point, somewhere.

He’s sealed in a tank underground, now. I go and visit him sometimes, like right now. Odd, I know, considering that he’s a killer, but I feel bad for him in a way. Separated from everything he once knew and loved, all alone.

“It’s nice and dark and quiet in there, isn’t it?” I ask, peering through the glass. He’s sitting against the far wall, obscured by the darkness.

I run my nail down the side of the tank absentmindedly, and it makes a squeaking noise.

Like a bolt of lightning, he’s up in an instant, throwing himself against the glass. I step back, but I can’t look away from his eyes, they’re bright with anger and malice. The pounding continues for a good thirty seconds before he finally gives up and slinks back.

“That’s a good boy. Nice and safe here. But where did you come from?” I murmur. “You must have come from so far away… I want to know… How you got here and h- how you get back, right? There’s gotta be a way to get back.”

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Someone is approaching, and I’d recognize that gait anywhere. My cheeks redden a bit. I’m lucky he didn’t catch me talking to it like that, he’d probably get worried. He doesn’t like it when I talk about going back to space. Maybe it’s because he wants it so badly, too, and he knows it’s not possible.

I turn when I hear the sound of Jack burbling.

“Hello darling,” I say, and smile in spite of it all. My darlings.

“Someone misses you at home, you know,” says The Doctor. He’s got Jack in a papoose around his shoulders, such a good daddy.

“Well, I’m sure he doesn’t miss the Weevil, not that he was awake to see it the first time. Are you taking me out to lunch?” I ask.

“Only the best for my Rose,” he answers.

“Vee-vil,” says Jack.

“Oh my GOD!” I screech, as I we both look down at him in shock. And that’s woken up the Weevil too, unfortunately, but who cares? The Doctor is laughing and I’ve got my arms around them both. Jack’s first words. I was hoping for ‘mama,’ but this makes more sense, when you think about it. We’re a perfect little family in very unusual circumstances. So a very unusual family, but I love it. I love us. 


	3. Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

I knew Rose was intelligent from the moment I met her. I knew her from before, of course, but the moment I met her, well that was different. She wasn’t the teenager I had known in an earlier life. She was Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth, UNIT scientist.

At that point, she had been working for years to get to me. Around two, apparently. It’s hard to keep track of time when you’re constantly slipping in and out of it, but she’s had none of that for quite a while.

Anyways, she’s been working with UNIT for quite some time now. It suits her, I think. I know she doesn’t think of herself as the intelligent, analytical type, but she is brilliant. She’s brilliant in ways you can’t test with A-levels. She’s brilliant at communicating, at problem solving, at saying the right thing at the right time. Those are skills you can’t pick up from books.

And she’s good at UNIT, I’ve heard. Rose has always been likable. But beyond that, she’s useful. She knows how to get a job done, even if she’s over her head.

It’s good for us that she is so successful, because they pay her quite well. Well enough that we can travel far and often, which is essential to Rose’s happiness, I’ve learned. She’s never lost the sense of adventure that brought her with me in the first place. In fact, being away from time travel seems only to have intensified it.

Before, I know she used to take breaks. She’d come home, spend time with her mother and Mickey, see all her old friends, catch up on the news. Nowadays, she has to take breaks from taking breaks.

I worry about her, sometimes. I worry that her need for exhilaration will outweigh her need for comfort and stability. The things I provide, and Jack, too. I know she’d never abandon us, but I’m afraid of her getting bored. I can live with a lot of things, but seeing Rose unhappy? No, I can’t live with that. It would suffocate me.

* * *

 

“There you have it, Rose, it’s literally a giant hole in the ground.” I’m teasing of course, and the tour guide looks up, affronted, when I say it, but Rose laughs. I knew she would.

When she said she wanted to come to the Grand Canyon, I was a bit surprised. There’s not a lot of action around here. Usually she wants to go to busy places, big cities and tourist spots.

“It reminds me of Karagula,” she says, quietly. And there you have it. Karagula, one of the earliest visits we took to another planet. The ore planet, with massive chunks carved out of it, forming insurmountable rifts and valleys. There were also lots of cave scorpions. Actually, I seem to remember us getting out of there quite quickly.

The fact that Rose is reminiscing is not a good sign. I try and distract her, make little tasks more exciting, surprise her, take her on these trips, but it’s not enough. I think I knew, deep inside, that it wouldn’t be enough.

So I smile at her, a bit tightly, and give a brisk nod.

She doesn’t return it. Instead, she lifts Jack up to give him a better view.

“See that, Jack? Big canyon. The biggest. Do you know what made it? Water. Say it with me, Jack. Wah-ter.”

“Werter,” pronounces Jack, looking pleased with himself. He’s still got a bit of a slur. Jackie keeps going on about speech therapy, but he’ll be fine. Many Gallifreyan children speak with a bit of a slur, and Jack is.. well.

He’s grown up quite a bit, my son has. Babbling all the time, and he’s taken his first few steps. Crawls everywhere. In fact, we’ve lost him a few times, he moves so fast. Rose says he’s just like his daddy.

I reach over and stroke her hair, trying to lighten the mood.

“Shall we set up our tent?” I ask.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Still doesn’t turn to look at me. I sigh, and retreat to where our campsite is supposed to be located. She’ll come around.

She comes around quite quickly, actually.

“Doctor, will you look after Jack for a bit? I want to walk around, explore on my own a little.” She looks determined. I know she won’t take no for an answer. And honestly, that’s what I love about her.

“Of course,” I say, and hold out my arms to Jack. He totters a bit, but manages to stay upright until he’s in my lap.

“You two have fun then,” Rose replies, and she’s off before I can respond.

“Well then, Jack, what say we make camp?” I ask him. He inserts a chubby digit into his mouth.

“Camp.”

“Excellent, Jack!” I plop him into his stroller and start locating tent parts amongst our supplies.

Rose says she named Jack after Jackie. I don’t doubt that she loves her mother enough to name her child after her, but I think there’s more to it. I think she wanted to name him after his father, but what sort of name can  you get out of The Doctor? So she went with the next best thing: her friend, another companion, Captain Jack Harkness. Someone no one in this universe would suspect, so she wouldn’t have to answer any awkward questions. Until I showed up.

But I don’t say anything. Can’t upset the status quo.

The ends of the tent poles knock together unsuccessfully in my hands, and I find myself starting to become irritated. It’s not because of the tent, really- I’ll get that eventually. It may be a bit lopsided, but it’ll do.

No, I’m upset because I hate this lying to each other, this trying to live in harmony when there’s so much brewing under the surface. It can’t go on forever, but we’ll never separate. So we’ll get be stuck together, always wishing for something more. I don’t want to live that way. Rose doesn’t deserve to live that way. Jack shouldn’t have to grow up with parents who don’t even know where they stand with each other.

I look back at Jack again. He’s got his favorite toy, a stuffed elephant, in one hand, and a pebble in the other. He appears to be smashing them into each other, simulating an explosion and making ‘whoosh’ sounds.

He’s darling, really. I never imagined myself having any more children, but I love Jack as much as I love Rose. I love that he’s part her and part me, in a way. He’ll have that same sense of adventure, and what a family we’ll make.

I want to show him the stars. I want to take him out on a cloudless night and teach him about far off civilizations and great wars, conflicts beyond imagination. I want to take him there, show him other species, children like him. Cross-species children.

I want Jack to know that he is never alone.

I’m interrupted from my thoughts then, by the sound of a shout.

“Hey! That guy is in trouble!”

It’s all I need to hear. I sweep Jack into my arms and dash across the flat grassy patch to where the rest of our tour is clustered. Several of them are pointing, most standing still, staring at something.

An uneasy feeling pools in my stomach. Where is Rose?

I push through the group, mumbling an apology as I go. And at first, I don’t see anything. Then, I angle my head down a bit, and I see them. Rose, identifiable by her long hair and purple jacket. And another figure. They’re standing a few hundred feet away, on a ledge overlooking the canyon. Too close. Far too close.

My feet propel me forward without thinking, Jack still clutched tightly in my arms.

“Mama,” I hear from him, but I am too focused on her to congratulate his identification.

“Rose!” I call, once we get nearer. The scene is clearer now. She’s standing in front of a man, one with a sky blue windbreaker and unkempt hair. I can see him trembling from a distance. He looks visibly shaken. But she is calm, gesturing, obviously talking to him.

“Rose?” I call again.

I see her raise her arm. It’s a warning. She’s saying stop, don’t come any nearer, but I don’t know if I should obey. And then I realize. The man probably planned on jumping, just as Rose walked by. And being who she is, she’s trying to console him. Trying to convince him his life’s worth living.

I stop, and stare at them. I’m still too far to make out what’s being said, but I can make a guess.

_Don’t you have a family, a mother somewhere? You know she wouldn’t want you to do this. Do you know what she’d say if she saw you right now? Think about that. Think about all the people you know, all the people who will have to cope with your loss. Think about all the good in life, the first cup of coffee in the morning, your last thoughts before you fall asleep. Are you really ready to lose all that? No. You don’t really want this._

Is that what she’s saying to him? I have no idea. But whatever she’s saying, it’s working, because they’re backing away more from the ledge now. He’s pulling himself up and over the brink, onto our level now.

My breathing slows as she follows him. I will not lose my Rose today.

* * *

 

That night, we’re wrapped up in our sleeping bags, Jack between us. I stare at Rose’s face, her eyes relaxed and closed, her breath lifting the quilt wrapped around her. But not sleeping.

“Rose?”  
“Yes, Doctor?”

“I’m sorry about today. I was cold. I acted uncaring. If you want to talk about-” Her eyes open wide, and I stop. She sits up, slowly.

“Doctor. My Doctor.” Her hand reaches out to smooth back the strands of hair caressing my forehead. “I don’t hold anything against you right now. I know it would be too hard to think about the past. It would hurt too much. Seeing that man today… I thought of you. Not that you would do something like that, but because I realized I never wanted to see you helpless, because of me. Don’t feel helpless, please.”

Her eyes bore into mine, and I nod. I won’t. For her, I won’t.

“Rose, what did you say to him?”

She swallows.   
“I asked him if there was anybody he loved. He said yes, but that she didn’t love him in return. I told him that no matter how she feels toward him, she would never want him to do this. That she would miss him. It didn’t seem to be working, until I told him she would feel guilty. He told me he never wanted to make her feel guilty.”  
I sit up too, then, and hold her hands in between mine.

“You did very good, Rose. I’m so proud of you. You’re wonderful, you’re just wonderful.”

She leans her forehead against my shoulder and I kiss the side of her neck.

My Rose, defender of the Earth. And all its inhabitants.

 

 

 


	4. Hertfordshire, England

**London, England**

 

"Rose?" Olivia calls from down the corridor.

"Mm, yes?" I shout back from inside my cubicle.

"Rose!" She sticks her head into my little office with her hair rumpled and her voice out of breath. "That Adipose we collected. It's out of its cage and causing a huge ruckus. Come help us, will you? You're best with them."

I jump out of my chair, eager for any sort of activity to distract me from this mindless office work. Today has been a completely boring waste of time- just memos for me to sort. Nothing new in. Honestly, it's a miracle that thing escaped.

Olivia and I jog down the hallways together.

"Where is it?"

"Last I saw it, the staff room, of all places. And tea bags, Rose. Everywhere."

I snort. "Pesky little buggers, they are."

We round the corner then, and there it is. Smack in the middle of the atrium. It's left a very obvious trail of destruction in its wake. During my quick glance around the room, I see a few stands knocked over, a broken pot, little piles of paper, and quite a few tea bags. And the Adipose, in the midst of it all, positively squealing with glee.

There are UNIT workers, everywhere, too. Mostly balding, middle aged men. Some cowering, some wielding poorly crafted weapons (staplers seem to be popular) and most of them just gaping at the mess.

"Alright!" I bark, stepping into the center of the room. The Adipose spares me no attention, but everyone else looks my way. I've got this great, booming voice I use when I'm searching for attention in a crowded room. It's served me well over the years.

"If we're gonna catch it, we need to corral it into a small space," I continue, enunciating clearly for those with their hands clapped over their ears. "If we all just move calmly in toward it, and keep walking it behind the front desk, someone should be able to grab it."

The looks on their faces aren't the optimism I was expecting.

"Uh… We have to touch it?" a man volunteers, meekly. I sigh. Honestly, these people. You'd think they would be used to these kinds of situations, but throw an alien into the mix and it's like they're all comatose.

"Fine," I say. "I'll be the one under the table. Got it?" A few scattered nods, typical terrified expressions in the face of danger. I love this job. Better than anything else I could have gotten.

I make my way over to the front desk, sidestepping over cracked glass and avoiding flying objects flung around by the Adipose. When I make it, in safety, I hop and slide over the top and land in the swivel chair.

"Everyone toward me!" I shout, and slide under the desk. Best if the thing doesn't see me. I'm not sure how well it can sense human activity, but in the off chance it's really intelligent, this is our best bet.

I hear lots of movement from the other side. Someone else seems to have taken the position of leadership, and I can hear footsteps forming a line of sorts. Then they're approaching toward me, and all seems good, but they suddenly stop.

I wait. Did someone get hurt? Kind of hard to do when you're up against a marshmallow, but I guess it's possible.

I count to twenty and hear nothing. Slowly, surely, I lift my head over the table and peer out. A ragtag group of UNIT employees, staring at me in silence, eyes wide. I raise an eyebrow. Nothing.

It doesn't take long to realize there's a missing element here: the Adipose. Not in the Atrium anymore? But no, I can still hear little squeaking noises, coming from somewhere above… Slowly, I look toward the ceiling.

Only to see the Adipose, posed precariously on the edge of a huge filing cabinet. I say precariously because the filing cabinet is leaning- no, tilting- no, falling.

Before I can wonder what the Gallifrey is going on here, it's crashing down toward me. I open my mouth to scream, but everything goes black.

* * *

 

**Hertfordshire, England**

 

I absolutely despised taking hot baths as a child. I always felt like I was being boiled, like the lobsters in the pot when we took that family vacation to Maine, after mum won the raffle contest and we got plane tickets. We could see them preparing our food, and the cook picked up a live lobster, and dropped it in a boiling pot. And it died. I was pretty disgusted, as a seven year old. I always wondered what the lobster's last thoughts were.

_Get me out of here_.

"Now, Rose, we're going to play a little game, while you're still in the hot tub."

_Please, no_ , I think.  _No more of these ridiculous games_. Grace smiles at me encouragingly. I attempt a grin back, but I think it comes out more like a grimace of pain.

"Darling, I'm going to point out people walking along, and we're going to pretend they've all been convicted of a crime. And you have to guess what the crime is!"

I'm about to commit a crime myself. Murder, that is.

This is only my second day staying at The Grove, and already I'm reminiscing about the hospital. At least I got to catch up on my shows.

After the incident at UNIT, I had a severe concussion, and I stayed in the hospital for five days. Meanwhile, my superiors, apparently aghast at the dangerous work conditions I'd been in, booked me a week-long "therapeutic" session at this luxury spa and resort. I tried to argue with them, but they insisted, all in good faith, of course.

Now I've been subjected to hot stone massages, yoga lessons, and of course, my personal trainer, Grace, who seems to delight in the most mind-numbing activities possible.

"Try him, over there Rose, the one with the blue tie and the boat shoes."

"He's a murderer. Wiped out an entire race of civilized people," I drawl. "Used a weapon of mass destruction and killed his entire family line-"

"Goodness, dear! That's a bit morbid!"

"Rose?" The Doctor asks, coming up to us. "Are you all right? You look a bit droopy." I stare back up at him with my most tortured expression.

"I'm having the time of my life."

Grace giggles and pats me on the back. "That's the spirit, darling."

_Please, kill me_ , I mouth at The Doctor.

"Ah, Grace, isn't it? Could I have some time with my wife?" he says to my captor with those puppy dog eyes he pulls off so well.

"Well, she's supposed to have another thirty minutes with me…" answers Grace, uncertainly.

"I'll be sure to play the convict game for the entire dinner tonight, Grace," I say, mustering up as much fake enthusiasm as I can.

"Well alright, then. You two enjoy yourselves." She trots off, platinum blonde bun wobbling as she goes.

"Thank God you're here," I moan, turning to look at The Doctor. "I'm absolutely miserable."

"I know," he responds, fidgeting a bit. "That's why I, ah… brought you a present."

"Oh, really?" I say, shifting toward him. "How sweet of you." He looks visibly uncomfortable. "It's not a body part, is it? You look like you've just had your-"

"Rose, promise not to get angry," he says, cutting me off. What?

"Why would I be angry at you?"

"Well, I didn't really know whether you would want them or not. But ever since Arizona, I've been thinking about what you said. About other planets and what not." I turn to face him completely. He's definitely got my interest now.

"Go on."

"I'm not a real artist, Rose. But here you go." He holds a package out in his hand. It's cream colored, thin, and wrapped in a red ribbon. As I take it from him, water bubbles up around my arm, and I hold the gift carefully on the side of the tub.

When I undo the ribbon, the wrapping slides off to reveal- oh. Oh, Doctor.

They're pictures, watercolors. Obviously drawn by him, I can see his style. They're absolutely stunning.

The first one, well that's Satellite 5. I can tell from white, circular room with light emanating from every corner. Oh, Captain Jack. My heart aches for him, but in a good way.

Underneath it… Cardiff. My Cardiff. There's my old apartment, the one I shared with mum, and there's the TARDIS, blinking on the sidewalk. I can't help it, tears well up in my eyes.

"Rose, are you alright?" The Doctor asks, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine, I'm better than fine. Doctor, these are… so beautiful. Thank you so, so much."

New Earth, The Impossible Planet, the 2012 Olympic Games. Our memories. The places we visited. When we were young and so, so happy.

I smile up at him. We are still so, so happy.

 

 


	5. Pompeii, Italy

Time. To most, it is stagnant. A unmoving pool of quicksand, to drudge through, be lost in. Space. An entity, unknown. Together, they move in a parallel direction, unable to be changed.

Wrong.

Time can be altered, time can be slowed, because time is an illusion. It is an invention, and inventions can be tinkered with. Space. Space is flexible and porous, and we can slip through the cracks if we’re not careful.

You don’t need a TARDIS to alter your path through time and space. Anyone can take that leap, and control time, instead of being under its rule. All it takes is a little initiative. But I’ll say this: Some parts, some knowledge, and a chameleon circuit can make the ordinary unbelievable. They can cross the line from always living to never dying.

* * *

 

“Papa, we been walkin for too long,” grumbles Jack. His sweaty, popsicle-stained hand slips out my grasp and he makes a break for a nearby tree.

“Come on Jack, we’re almost there!” I say, encouragingly. But it’s no use, my boy has given up completely, slumped against a tree stump.

“Papa, I’m tired,” he moans. I almost demand him to get up and move along, but he does look awfully tired. Note to self: do not plan extended “Harry Potter” reading session the night before a long excursion. So instead I join him under the branches, looking out over the city, taking in crumbled brick under the bright, blue sky.

“Do you like Pompeii, Jack?” I motion to the expanse in front of us.

“Yup. But too much walkin. I liked Took-yo better.” I smile, and run a hand over his mussed hair.

“Tokyo was very cool. Lots of robots and skyscrapers. But some of the ingredients we need for Momma’s present are here, and we have to go to a special place to find them. It’s not on the map,” I say.

“Momma’s with the camels.”

I snort. Rose is indeed in Egypt, on a business trip. Usually I would go with her, and it would be nice to show Jack the Pyramids, but I’m so close to finishing the machine. This side trip is a necessity when time is of the essence.

My machine will not be a TARDIS, but it will have limited time and space maneuverability. I have always known that such a creation was possible, but the construction is not without its extreme difficulties.

For one thing, I have to scour practically every inch of the Earth for the necessary parts. Having Rose’s connection at UNIT was instrumental, and I regret to say that some of their alien stockpile will not be returned to them.

But then there was the complex organic machinery. To bend time, you need components that no man, or any species for that matter, can create. Luckily, suitable alternatives for Time Lord technology can be found on this planet, but once the initial prototype is completed, we will need to travel to other galaxies for the final product.

This entire project came to life about three years ago, when Rose and I finally came to terms with our mutual longing for the life we’d once had. I was expecting a life of regret once I embraced my true passion, but instead, I found myself fueled with a desire for change. I would show Rose the universe, I had to. I would not stop until I found a way.

Three years later and I’m almost there. In Tokyo, a few months ago, I located a suitable membrane for the heart of the device. But now that it’s separated from its source, it’s deteriorating fast without a mechanical heart. That’s where Pompeii comes in.

Being in this alternate universe makes things difficult. I don’t know if the Time Lords in this world had the same impact on Pompeii as the one we came from. If not, I don’t know what we’ll do. I don’t want to think about that.

“When will the time machine be ready?” Jack asks, sweetly. I swallow heavily. Of course we told Jack about our stories. But that’s all they were- stories- until this project began. Eventually, we knew we’d have to explain to him what the real world was like. But now, when he’s so young? It’s been difficult, and UNIT has threatened to use some of their frankly barbaric technology on his memory. With the machine, everything could be fixed. It all rests on today.

“Soon, Jack, darling,” I say, eventually. “But if we want it to be finished, we have to go find the missing part, now, okay?” Jack gives the most exasperated sigh I’ve ever seen a six year old produce.

“Well, alright, Papa, let’s go,” he concedes, offering his chubby fingers. I take them in my hand.

“For Momma?” I ask.

“Anythin for Momma,” he finishes. It’s endearing, really, how he picked that up from me. We’re both her boys, at the end of the day.

* * *

 

 

“One more hill to go!” I crow, triumphantly, then look down at Jack. He’s sitting on the ground.

“No.” Not even a question. I look around. There’s no one out here. We’ve gone far, far off the beaten path. I could sense the past presence of Time Lords from a mile away, which lifted my spirits considerably, but nothing is definite yet. We could find it, we could not find it.

Perhaps it’s better to just start looking.

“Okay, you can sit and play with the pebbles here, but try not to scuff up your pants, and shout if you see anything moving, alright?”

Jack gives a little salute. Also endearing. I’m sure he’ll be fine, but just in case I won’t go too far. Honestly, I should be right here, on the spot.

What I’m looking for is rock. Not just any rock, mind you, it should having a decidedly different appearance, at least to my eye. Rock that’s been touched by the fabric of space of time, like this rock, has a slight shimmer to it, although not the human definition of shimmer.

Not every rock I touch gets the stuff, especially not anymore, but since so many Time Lords have crossed paths at Pompeii, the effect takes place. The tragedy that lived here is in itself miraculous- so many things led to its happening. The Butterfly Effect, to put it in laymen’s terms. That’s why those who travel within time are drawn to it. It’s practically a paradox, at this point.

I’ve been looking through this stuff for ages now. There’s sweat on the back on my neck, and I can feel it sliding down. Jack has complained enough to lose his voice, but I can’t stop. I can’t accept defeat, not when I’ve come so far. I’ve already conquered immeasurable odds, this cannot be the one thing that stops me.

But finally I realize that I’m done, it’s all over. I close my eyes. Then I summon up the best of my spirits. I have to be strong for Jack and… oh, Rose…

And then, something very strange happens. I no longer feel upset or worried or anxious. Something like a smile dances on my lips and I open my eyes to see Jack holding a very peculiar pebble in front of my face.

“Papa. It looks funny.”

* * *

 

Half Time Lord, half human. My son and I share a connection unlike anything else I have ever seen or even heard of. This bond will carry us through generations to come- Time Lord genetics are dominant, after all.

He is my blood, my rock, my tether to Earth and my shared joy with Rose. Together, as a family, we will retake what is ours. My machine is almost complete. Together, we will reclaim the skies.

 

 


End file.
